


Hobbit Life Hack: Roadtrip

by DuCali



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Elves, Fix-It, I Brought My Station Wagon, Mistaken Identity, Modern Girl in Middle Earth, No Sex, Nudism, Self Insert, Survivalist in Middle Earth, UST, What Elves?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 12:58:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4706849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuCali/pseuds/DuCali
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She Just wanted to go on her camping trip- only after passing out at the wheel for no apparent reason, suddenly she wakes up in the middle of nowhere. </p>
<p>A middle of Nowhere that looks suspiciously like a Middle Earth LARPing community.</p>
<p>At least she's got her car and all her gear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nausea

A/N: I am surprised and shocked that nobody has- (as far as I know) wrote a Hobbit SI fic like this before. I just can’t get why SI that are dumped in other universes are always so lacking. Like- why can’t we go there and just kick ass?

Chapter 1: Nausea

I was going camping- a road trip in my Subaru Outback that was going to span the whole of California- the coast, the beach, Yosemite, the redwoods- and divert through Vegas (just in time for the bi-monthly pride parade*) before ending up at the grand canyon and all the way back. It would take about 3 weeks, since I was stopping so much, and I had reservations at the state camp grounds on the south rim for a week and a half. I was travelling North on the I-5 not 20 minutes after getting on the road, when I fainted while driving. Just- total blackout. There was a flash of light- a pulse that rocked my car and made me nauseas, and then nothing.

**line break**

When I came to, I was in the middle of nowhere. And I mean- literally nowhere. I had no service, and I wasn’t on a road. There were no tire tracks, there were no signs, no public bathrooms and literally there was just bunny hills, a few rocks and grass. No tire tracks that suggested how my car- and by association myself- had gotten there in the first place. The grass wasn’t bent, so I’d probably been out quite a while, at least a few hours, though by the dry sticky feel in my mouth, probably more. It smelled- kinda like Washington. The clear air down from Alaska winds- weird, since California was mostly wind-stopping valley and therefore had a generally staleness that was mostly unnoticeable unless you’d been somewhere else for awhile, like the bay area that had no protection from ocean winds; so yeah- Weird. 

I jumped into the back of my car to riffle through my survival gear in search for a compass. I’d packed in case of- anything really, since I wasn’t the kind of traveller to decide what I wanted to do ahead of time. I’d folded down both of the back seats for cargo room to store all my stuff- a hiking bag, a G.O.O.D. bag **(because hey- the zombie Apocalypse could happen whenever) and everything in it, two tents (one single for backpacking and one for up to 4 people- you never know who you’ll make friends with),a blow-up bed (with hand pump), a foldup chair, a cooler full of water and snackage, various camping cooking awesomeness, about 10 pounds of jerky (Just in case) and the same in Hard tack (I’m a traditionalist at heart, and that shit never went bad!), and various odds and ends that I found essential to new-age camping (like a portable shower/latrine, Swedish firesteel, a mini gas powered portable stove- a couple gallons of extra fuel on top of the reserve tank I’d had installed).

I tapped the compass and frowned. It seemed The hills around me had some heavy ore deposits of some kind, because It wasn’t giving me a clear north. I sighed. I’d have to find the road somehow. I looked around for the closest tree, and grabbed my climbing equipment and some hiking shoes. There was a likely pine (don’t ask me what species) off to the right so I strapped myself in and threw up a lead rope.*** When I got to the top, I saw some greener patches of land to the left and back from where it looks my car could have come from- indicating either a road, a row of houses, or a river, all of which looked likelier than the creepy gross forest to my right. I shimmied back down and packed away the equipment; I turned the key, buckled my seatbelt, and took a breath- (viciously beating back my hysteria. I was in control- I would survive whatever came- I was an independent kick-ass awesome woman and ‘I got this!’ huzzah! And when I found who did this to me, if at all possible without censure evidence, I’d castrate [or the female equivalent] whoever did this to me with a dull wooden spork.)

I smiled and nodded to myself. Yeah. That works. And I pulled forward towards uncertain hope. 

 

A/N: This is short, sorry. I ran out of time at the Library. I hadn’t meant to fic honestly, but I had this plot bunny just take hold of me as I was posting the newest chapter to my other story and was all like- eh; why not? You know? I’ll write more when I get home. 

*as far as I know, there is not actually a bi-monthly pride parade. I made that up, because it’s wishful thinking. When I travel, I always miss the pride parades. It’s unfair.  
**A G.O.O.D. bag is made by survivalists for emergency situations. Mine is a Camel-bak type that’s sturdy and has both emergency tent capabilities and a comfortable carriage distributed through the hips and across the shoulders for comfort over long areas. It has everything I need to fish/hunt/build fires as well as a nifty sleeping bag that’s about a 1/4 the size of a regular sleeping bag that doesn’t need folding, and a two person hammock. Also included are water purifying essentials, emergency and general first-aid, and stuff to survive a forest fire (also two weeks emergency rations).   
***everything I know about climbing trees I learned from Treehouse Masters.


	2. First Impressions: Part 1

A/N: This chapter was weird, and for some reason (physics) I decided to have there be more traveling than I initially guessed. So…you don’t get to see the Company until next chapter. I’ve already written most of it, so I’ll post part 2 soon.

**line break**

Chapter 2; part 1: First Impressions

It was a river. 

Damn it. 

Well – water meant life, And – I argued to myself as I rolled my pants up and donned my hiking/water trekkers (beautiful things- ergonomic, fast drying, wicks away sweat and perfect for muddy trail hiking) if I was going to run into someone in what it looked like was the middle of nowhere, I was going to have to follow it. 

I pulled out a water testing kit. Most of the water in the US is safe to drink, with a little chlorine tablet and some coal filters – or a little boiling – for virus and the like, but it was always better to know what you have to work with. My kit tested mostly for chemicals- fertilizers and pesticides were of the greatest concern- with the lack of development, it’s likely this was farmland. 

I was a little incredulous- since even with a few hours, the trees, climate and air were different enough that I had to have been moved a great deal – The air was damper now as I walked around, more than the river could account for.   
California was dry- and there weren’t any mountains that I could see- just one big outcropping a few miles down the river- the direction I was likely to go anyway, because mountain people (where the water originated) tended to be sparse and lacking communications and mental health facilities, while cities tended to be settled on the other end of them and at least had enough normal people to even out the crazies (and less likely to get away with wearing my face as a Halloween mask if worst came to worst). Between two sides of a river, I always know which end I’d rather trek towards looking for help.

The water was clean- not just (and I blinked here) completely clean of chemicals. Jesus- was there anywhere in the world that was? But it was lacking in radicals, general sewer pollutants like urea, hormones and even biological virus. It was purer than bottled water. I checked the microscope picture my kit generated, and saw a few biological agents I wasn’t familiar with, which was worrying- but I could kill those off with a simple chlorine pill, boil it- or if I didn’t want to waste propane, I could set it in a plastic bottle and strap it to the top of my car, and let the sun kill them off. But it was clean enough to swim in, certainly. I remembered the biological protozoa that looked unfamiliar and that I still wasn’t sure I wasn’t on camera and decided to stay in my underwear. 

I took another look at the sides of the river and decided to try further down stream for a shallower incline.

About an 10 minutes into my drive – It was a little bumpy, but tolerable- I passed that rock formation. It looked like there were stairs winding down it,- which meant hikers! But also no handrails, so likely a survivalist place, which I approved of categorically. They’d have a radio, if nothing else. They hadn’t been anywhere I’d seen on my drive following the river so I would likely run into them soon. 

I drove out another hour or so (my phone’s time was seriously off- it said it was 4 am when it was by all accounts a little before noon judging by the shadows) before I found the….house. 

It didn’t look like a retreat, but the grounds were clean and organized, and lacked the woodsy bachelor musk that I associated with crazy wood people. Secret camera show was looking less likely.

But the bees! They were a type I’d never seen before- some kind of hybrid Bumblebee, and at least 3 times their size. I. Love. Bees. They were so – so- awesome. I just. Can’t. I am not embarrassed to say that I took video, despite the drain on my battery. 

The gardens were gorgeous, and economical. All of the plants I recognized that weren’t food had medical or fragrant properties, or could be used to make soaps or creams. I was a little in love. The woodpile to the side was swept and clean, and I actually bumped into an honest to goodness sheep on my way to the front door. The look it gave me was affronted, so I stopped for a bit to give it’s head a good rub in apology. 

The cottage home was actually kind of prettyish with a sort of stucco mud-clay mix exterior that was favored with the Japanese currently in tree houses. Common in long-distance builds since it used the surrounding resources instead of costly lumber, though it was likely lumber based on the inside. I approved. I knocked on the door, only for the sheep to beat me to it. It jumped up on it, and pulled the handle down letting itself in. 

It was obviously unlocked. So- I entered and called “Hello?”, to be met with still silence. The room was a little musty, but not much. A dog was by the embers of a fire, and though he put his head up when I came up, he settled back down after nudging the sheep. Obviously friendly- and no breed I’d ever seen, though he looked like he had mastiff in him. I was again surprised. Mutts were healthier, but not very many people preferred them.

“Hello!” I called again, cupping my hand around my mouth to make the sound carry farther- and still nothing. Nobody home. I looked at the window over the sink- no curtains. Definitely a man then. I huffed a bit in amusement and got to checking out my surroundings- and maybe the pantry. No use using up rations if I didn’t need to, and whatever the guy asked for (except sex- I’d never sold my body before and didn’t plan on doing it now) I could pay. I had the basic bill denominations, dollars, pounds, euros, some salt water pearls and gold bullion stashed in the side panels of my car doors (seriously- all the stuff you can fit around the cars carriage was kind of funny if you thought about it, and where I didn’t have actual things, I had phone books- a cheap and efficient way to bullet proof a car). 

He (whoever he was) had honey, and lots of it. None of it in plastic, which didn’t really matter, but he didn’t have any glass either. All clay pots. I thought about the homemade jams and stuff I had under my passenger seat. I had at least 6 cans of Peach, and 4 cans of plum, which would be probably as beloved by a guy that didn’t normally allow himself the luxury of pre-made glass products. I supposed I could trade for the Honey- good honey was hard to find, and it’d boost my immunity to the locale if I ate honey pollinated and made locally. Probably by those awesome bees. I shook it a bit, and it looked pure and smelled sweet, and was a light whiskey hue which meant the bees were in flourishing health and that he’d screened out all the detritus. 

Not only was it good for immunity boosting, but it tasted good, kept well, and was great for wounds. I set 3 small pots of it on the large wood table in the dining room for bartering. 

Shuffling through other pantry items, I found lots of grains and oats and some bags of flour. There were blocks of what looked like and smelled like salt- likely Iodine free, which made me wonder where he got his from, and to think to the containers of salt I had in my car with the rations. If he wasn’t interested in Jam- (though my grandma’s jam was delicious, couldn’t see why he wouldn’t be) there was the salt. 

And with the animals going in and out- the house was clean, which despite the far reaches, made it less likely he was crazy. Huzzah.

My host still wasn’t here- and though he had some other goods I had my eye on, the fragrant soap and other things weren’t items I didn’t already have, just from more manufactured origins. I could deal. 

There wasn’t a shower in the bathroom, just a big soaking tub and it being such a nice day, and the water so clean I decided to go outside. I was a little weary of maybe polluting the river (oh my god so clean)though, so I set up my camp shower nearby, and hauled up some of the river water to use over the grass (as well as quite a bit of water I left strapped to my roof to percolate in the sun). the camp shower curtain would protect me in case Mr. Host came back before I was decent, and if I had anything on my skin, it’d get washed into the grass which could deal with it. I had an entourage of curious barnyard animals following by now, to my own amusement, but the dogs (of which I could now see 4 or so) hadn’t attacked, so I kept myself confident they wouldn’t, so I didn’t smell like prey. 

Besides an awkward moment when one of them stuck it’s nose between my legs to say hello while I was draping my clothes over the top of the shower and having to shoo another sheep out of the shower itself, there weren’t any incidents. Of course I had forgotten a towel, but when I peaked around to the front there wasn’t a car so, moderately dry from a few minutes in the sun, I streaked to my car for a change of clothes. 

There was still some sun left, but I still hadn’t been able to talk to my host. Dressed and fresh, I wandered back inside with some jam. Since I couldn’t be sure He’d like it, I grabbed some gold as well (just a bit- closer to 30$ than more) and about 50ft of paracord. I traded the jam and gold, as well as the rope for the honey and a bar of his honey and oat soap (it smelled divine). I penned a short note and left it with the items. 

I stepped out of the house with my haul and after loading the car, spent a minute or two bestowing cuddles and petting my entourage (they were so cute!) before I packed myself in and started up the engine. It scared a few of the sheep, but they seemed okay. 

I hadn’t gone far when I hit a dirt driveway? Road? Heading away from the river and toward the forest. There was a bridge on the river, but with the break in tree cover, the mountains were obvious- and I always did what I could to avoid crazies, so icky dark forest road it was. It looked a ways off- but then, so did the mountains. Both were huge, and both could have a community just on the other side. Eh. I was good for supplies. If the forest was a dead end, I’d just turn around and go the other way. 

About 30 minutes along the road, I saw a bunch of horses galloping off to the side. I smiled a bit, content, until I saw the huge ass bear running behind them.

Holy shit! It was looking at me! It started to turn in my direction as I passed it, obviously meaning to give chase. I floored it- from 25 to 93 in 5 seconds (5 seconds too long). I barely escaped him- he took a swipe at my rear fender at about 50 mph (bears are so fast!). 

The bear shrank into the distance. I wouldn’t be stopping anytime soon, Jesus. The sun was getting low. I had about an hour and a half until it started to set (early I thought, for summer- could I be in a different hemisphere?), but I needed to set up camp. I was leery of stopping too soon, since I wasn’t sure how curious that bear was. 

I slowed down to a stop about 40 minutes later, and raided the ice-chest without getting out. I pulled out a bag of jerky and tore into it viciously. Adrenalin made me hungry. I had some fresh peaches from my grandmother’s yard. She’d had a large haul this year so she’d been happy to get rid of them (as well as the jam). I also ate a turkey sandwich roll I’d made in advance for the road. I finished it all off with a Coke and a draw of water from my canteen(the stuff from home- the water I’d nabbed from the river was still strapped to my roof).

As I munched the last of the peach, I thought of the lack of peach trees in my fellow bee lover’s yard. I smiled, and set the seed aside, just in case I headed back that direction. If not, I’d just ask for the address and mail him one. I’m sure he got mail sometime (maybe every month?). 

I kept driving till dark. I was a little wary of bears, so I cracked a window, deciding to sleep in the car. I pushed the passenger seat all the way back, and pulled out my sleeping bag and a pillow. I switched the car over to the secondary power for a little and turned on the heated seat. After I was warm I turned it off, and I was out like a light.


	3. First Impressions: Part 2

I woke a little sore and a little early. The sun still wasn’t out, though it was the kind of dark that suggested dawn was soon. I had a thought and, grabbing a flashlight, did a sweep for bugs (looking for the reflection of unknown camera lenses).

There were none. I even checked the engine; and as the sun came up, took apart all my associated car lights to double check. Nothing. Nada. A frission of fear slid down my spine as I slowly put my car back together. More important than how, was why someone would move my whole car to the middle of bumfuck nowhere, without even watching me. I hadn’t seen another human since I’d woken up yesterday, though where the guy from the cabin could have been I’ve no idea. I’d done a sweep for bugs along where I was at the road, but there hadn’t been any there either. It could be that I was driving straight to my – captors?(yeah lets go with that)

But- unless these people really knew me, there wasn’t any real guarantee I’d end up where they wanted at all. Unless they had. Gawds I was paranoid. 

After a stringent breakfast that consisted of another peach and some jerky, enjoyed in the dawn, I continued on the road. 

It only took me another 4o minutes to reach the woods- desolate and creepy as they were- to see people! FINALLY. 

There were quite a few of them, on foot, oddly enough- and it looked like they were just preparing to enter the forest by the road I’d been travelling on. As I got closer, I misjudged the distance to them a bit because they were midgets At first I thought they were lost children- them being so short, and their clothes being so odd, but I noticed their beards directly after, in the adrenaline rush of almost running one over (little people? Vertically challenged. People-with-the-medical-condition-of-Dwarfism!).. 

It’d been a ginger- I suppose that was alright- everyone knew gingers had no souls.*I rolled my eyes at myself as I caught my breath. Still half hysteric, I lunged out of my car and went to the kid’s aid- and unlike the others, this one was definitely young- he’d no beard of his own and he had the look of baby fat in the face. 

He cringed a little, when I offered my hand, and one of the others- blond, with a peculiar hairdo(a sideways Mohawk? I wasn’t sure if I hated it or loved it, what with the braided beard that went with it) lunged to put himself between us, while barking something I didn’t catch.

“Woah”, I said, raising my hands in supplication as I noticed the knives he was brandishing, “didn’t mean to almost run over anyone, I swear.”

He looked confused for half a second before he lunged forward with his knives, and I stepped back to avoid them. I kept my hands up, and a look of contrition on my face. Another of the party, this one with black hair streaked with grey- marched up with the air of resolving everything. Hopefully he spoke English.

“Can you tell your friend I don’t mean any harm?” I directed towards him as he walked up- which had the peculiar effect of making him stop short, his eyes narrowing (in what most would probably take for anger, but from living with my grumpy father I knew to be confusion) . I sighed. Great. The only people I see for three days, and they don’t even speak English. 

Yet another one- (this one kind of huffy with curly hair- and was he barefoot?) steeled his courage next, planting his feet in a defensive stance just my side of Mr. grumps-a-lot (who now looked vaguely hysterical, wide eyed and anxious with his hand half reached out- he must not like the little curly haired fellow being in supposed danger, interesting…).

He started with mumbling that ended with “…phârë ?” and then- “ Bilba Labingi, kaduk laben-leg.”**

Curious. I’d never heard that dialect before, I’m sure. I kept my face blank in incomprehension. And when everyone looked at me in censure, shrugged my arms up and down, putting down my hands and trying to seem at ease. The barefoot one seemed to huff indignantly. Hah. He was kind of cute.

“Bilba”. He said. Doing the Tarzan/Jane routine. 

“Meghan” I reciprocated, smiling.

“Naragin? Mumbled one of the others, a little indignantly- I thought; and I shook my head negatively.

“May-Gah-Hin” I exaggerated. “Meghan.”

“Banazîr” shot back one of the others, which set some of them into nervous titters, and the rest into glaring at the culprit. 

I literally give up. 

I reached back behind me over my open car door to dig out a map of the US. Hopefully I was still somewhere on an Amish settlement or something. Or- and I eyed my captive audience with some dubious eyebrows- a LARPing resort. 

I unfurled the map, intending to lay it on the ground, only for it to be snatched out of my hands by the sideways-blonde-mohawk dude. He inspected it thoroughly (did he lick it?! Good thing it was laminated…) before handing it over to the surly one. The whole lot of them huddled around him and they laid it out.

After a few seconds of them emitting panicked noises and grumbling over the contents of the map- they all turned to me in unison. Another red-head gestured at the map as if asking “what is this nonsense?”. I countered with an encompassing arm waive of our surroundings and a gesture at the map.

I received an unamused face (which was kinda hard to tell because of all the facial hair).

The red-head pulled out his own map- on honest to god oiled-parchment  
WTF. He laid it on top of my map, as if to compare the two, and gestured me over. 

They were LARPing. It was a map of Middle earth. I looked at them again through new eyes after discerning they were pretending the be the company of Thorin Oakenshield at a point in their journey that was supposed to be after Beorn’s house (wow- a Bear and a cottage were pretty heavy detail into a fantasy set-up – and damn-it, if this was a LARP resort, there had definitely been a radio at that cottage, just better hidden) and before the Greenwood. 

I pulled out my phone, searching for my documents cache. I had a Kuzdhul dictionary in here somewhere when my little cousin went through that elf phase and I’d tried to convert her- ah. Here it is. I typed in a search. 

I took a stick to the ground beside the map and carefully spelled out the word I needed in Dwarvish letters (Old Futhark?). Consulting the pronunciation, I carefully pronounced the Khuzdul word for ‘Lonely Mountain’- “Azsalul’abad”.

My audience exploded into chaos. Great.

A/N: that was a lot of writing to cover an hour in the day. Jeez.  
• My first BF was a ginger. I hold no actual prejudice against gingers.   
• ** Actually is Westron from a dictionary list I found on Wikipedia. It says (as far as I know) “…Language?” – and then “Bilbo Baggins, Hobbit of Bag End” in which case, Bilba is not actually a feminine form of Bilbo- but the Westron equivalent. Bilbo as a side note- is a type of short sword, fyi. ‘Naragin’ is the Westron word for Dwarf, ‘Banazir’ means Half-wit. So the reason they were split on that was because of Bifur- Lol. I love Bifur.


	4. The Forest Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ha ha- totally Owned Mirkwood.

As the surly one- who I was going to call Thorin, since he was dressed like him anyway (and why anyone would playact as the guy that died tragically without his mind, his kingdom, his pride, or the girl in the end, I’d never fathom). 

Anyway- as Thorin¬ continued to make a fuss, I managed to make a pantomime conversation work with the white haired one that tarzan-fashioned himself as “Balin” (of course he was Balin- what WAS I thinking?) to figure out that we were apparently going to try to cross the Forest road that went through Mirkwood.

Yeah. We. 

Like HELL I was going to abandon the only living people I’d seen in days when It’s likely the end of the ‘Quest’ was the way out. – or at least had transportation home. 

(I tried not to think about how non-politically correct it was to have people with dwarfism LARPing as Dwarves- Live and let live).

 

I managed to convey to the white haired- Balin- must remember to cater to crazy ass people (don’t want them eating my face at night)- Balin that I would drive them to Erebor. He seemed oddly amenable to the idea. If Mirkwood was mid-quest, they were probably missing the amenities of home by now. 

If the rock formation I’d seen was any judge of distance, It’d take me about 6 hours to get through ‘Mirkwood’. It would have taken them weeks to do the same. 

I wouldn’t have complained either. 

Thankfully, I had enough parachord rope and tarp to secure everything that was in the back to the roof. Hopefully there wouldn’t be any low branches. Unlikely, since whoever ran the retreat likely had a huge SUV.

I left out my food and settled it into the passenger foot-well; Even though my er- guests were numerous, I seemed to be able to fit two in the front seat with their feet on the cooler. I settled the curly haired barefoot one- (Bilbo? - though his feet were especially big, they were probably specialty shoes) behind me since he seemed the least likely to gank me if I did something he didn’t like. 

The bald one (Dwalin- he had the twin hammers) and the silver haired one going by Dori (was that a wig?) were in the front. The rest piled into the back with the seats down. 

The road was surprisingly maintained (or maybe not, if this really was a retreat), so the drive was pretty smooth. My suspension was good- the road was a bit rough in places, a few stones pulled up- I’d have to mention it to the park admin when I got out of here. 

Though it was likely as not on purpose. It was serviceable at least. 

I had to turn my headlights on pretty early- the trees were pretty numerous- they blocked out the sun. I was getting to the point that I was grudgingly impressed with the detail that went into the park- it was everything I expected of middle earth- there were even tons of spider webs speckled throughout. There was a funky smog though (exactly how realistic would they go for here? They wouldn’t put hallucinogens in the forest air would they?)

I left the windows up. The CO2 content slowly rose, making me sleepy. My passengers too- they started to nod off. It was dark and a low oxygen environment, and boring as all hell. I reached under my seat for the emergency oxygen.

(you never know when your car is going to be dumped in a river with you in it! And it’s all well and good to say you know how to get out of a drowning vehicle [let the water in to equalize pressure, then open the door] but what if you were pinned, or the door/window was broken shut? yeah- Having O2 in your car is a totally not a crazy paranoid thing- So there!) 

I pulled the mask up to the side of my face- and opened the valve a little bit. It would increase the air pressure in the car, but it would allow enough oxygen so I wouldn’t fall asleep, and my passengers could doze in peace. I made sure it didn’t seal over my mouth, so it would leak into the car a little bit. I just needed enough to not fall asleep. 

About ¾ of the way through ‘Mirkwood’ something hit my windshield. I startled- as did the – Dwalin character. That had looked like an arrow!! I’d seen a flash of something bright to the left, but in the seconds it took me to process it, I was already half a mile down the road. 

It was a pretty straight road- I’d have to look at a map of middle earth when I got back. The map Balin had shown me hadn’t had a river. I was pretty sure there’d been a river in the books. 

I inspected the windshield. It was scratched! It was bulletproof glass, and it was scratched. What in the hell. 

I sped up a little. 

The air in the forest started to clear about an hour later, and I was going to start running out of oxygen soon, so I chanced rolling down the windows (while sealing the mask over my face). Dori freaked out a bit- his face had been pressed against the glass. I snickered a little. He poked his hand through the now open space and started panicking, which was odd. 

When He looked at me, his eyes went wide, and he started fretting or something. Looking around at my wide awake riding companions, I decided to chance it, and turned off the oxygen (he probably thought I was poisoning them or something). 

The road was growing brighter a little- the branches over us letting in a bit more light. I leaned down a little and tossed open the cooler, gesturing at my guests as I pulled out some jerky and a watermelon tea. ‘Dwalin’ grabbed some more jerky, ate some, made approving noises and shoved the whole bag into the back. (rude)

Eating, the whole group seemed to calm down. I heard a growling stomach behind me- the ‘Bilbo’ character seemed to still be hungry. I kept my eyes on the road and grabbed one of the granola bars I’d had stashed in my center console. I opened it and put half in my mouth before passing it back. 

He seemed appreciative?

I’m pretty sure the words he was saying were in an appreciative tone. 

I kept driving, substantially more entertained now that everyone was awake. The redhead I’d almost run over looked a little green- I put his window down a little more, and he gratefully stuck his head out the window. I slowed down a little and drifted more to the left so he wouldn’t hit any branches. 

The silence was a little awkward. 

Okay- it wasn’t really silent- everyone was sort of talking, sort of bored-dozing. I grabbed my iPhone out of the pocket of my jacket and plugged it into my speakers, and asked siri to play my ‘Strings’ playlist- a mix of Hip-hop Violin and Harp ensemble and classical. 

I was a dork. They could deal. 

Young Mozart’s Hip Hop Waltz came up first. I love this song. 

My ride-alongs all stopped talking to listen in awe. Ha. Music was a universal language. 

Dori put his hand over the speakers next to him. I could see someone else- Fili? Trying to pry one loose in the back. 

I braked deliberately jerky- sending everyone sprawling (I fangirled a second when the ‘Thorin’ guy landed on ‘Bilbo’- hah. I totally ship that). 

I chewed out ‘Fili’ (and it had to be him- he was the blonde right?) though from his expression he probably didn’t understand the words, even if he understood the tone. He made a show of putting up his tools and patting the speaker. Lindsey Stirling started to play. I raised an eyebrow before starting to turn back around. I paused when I heard Balin smack Fili over the head (at least, from the wounded look Fili shot Balin while rubbing his head, and the glare Balin was giving him, I supposed that was true). 

I started forward again. We went around a bend- and suddenly we were out of the forest. Everyone cheered. 

There was what looked like a wood bridge- I didn’t even pause. 

I could hear it groaning- And sped up. Suddenly the whole bridge lurched and started to fall- just as we reached the other side, the guardrail on the left snapped away from the anchor post and bashed into the driver side of my car, sending us skidding towards the now bridge-less river. 

(never more thankful in all my life that my car was all wheel drive). 

I my wheels finally pulled enough traction to drive away from the edge, as the last of the bridge fell into the river. I parked and got out, looking over the destruction. 

Horrified a little- They wouldn’t make me pay for that would they? (no way- I wasn’t at fault for even being there, It’d never stick)

And- why was the construction so shoddy? (how did the other vehicles get across? My car wasn’t that heavy- or, actually, maybe it was- It was bullet proof, with gear on top, and 15 people crammed in. heh).

Oops. 

 

I noticed everyone had decided to take a bathroom break. I was a little dehydrated, but decided to take advantage of a nearby bush on the other side of the road. 

I didn’t really want to be here for much longer in case there was retribution for killing the bridge, but If I got back in the car, my new peeps might freak out, maybe think I was leaving them, so I reached through my window (ugh- the whole side of my car was scratched!) and pulled out the keys, killing the engine. 

One of the dwarves- looked like Bifur (wow- how did he keep the makeup for that axe up in the wilderness? That’s hardcore-) startled a little and putting his hand on the front of the car, tilted his head at me in obvious question of why I’d stopped the engine. I smiled and waved in the direction of the ‘Company’. 

He smiled back. Oddly easy to communicate with, Bifur. 

Filli ambled up to me, looking contrite. I leaned down, and he tensed up as if expecting a blow, so I just smiled and kissed his forehead. The look on his face was of such awe, it was hilarious. I patted him on his blonde head. He was adorable. Like a Labrador. 

I’d left early in the morning, and met up with Thorin’s company not long after- and after speeding up a little from the arrow, it was only about 11am. 

Maybe noon. I wasn’t for sure where in the world I was, but I hadn’t recognized any stars that morning- so I could be in Canada or Ohio or even East Washington. Honestly, I didn’t know how to navigate using stars- that’s what GPS was for. 

But I did know that where in the world you were and what season it was changed what angle the sun was at – not that it helped me. 

I just thought it was cool. 

Stretching, I walked up to my Hobbit and Dwarves. I clapped to catch their attention, and started to walk back towards the car, beckoning (there are some things that are universal).

We all piled back into the car. Balin had switched with Dwalin, so He was my map reader and director. 

We turned a little left after the destroyed bridge for a few more hours- mostly over boring, dull grassy plains that were hurting my eyes, despite my cheapo sunglasses (the best are the cheap ones- I broke the expensive ones too easy, and the cheap ones usually had better sun protection). 

The dwarves were playing some sort of game in the back, like tacks or something. Every once in a while, I aimed for a pothole during someone’s turn to make it more interesting, since the dwarves would all exclaim in either delight or sorrow if I messed up their throw.

A girl had to get her kicks somehow. 

Boooooorrriiiiiiiiiing

There was a mountain in the distance- probably our extraction point. Or Erebor, if you’re being picky and LARP-y.

Whoever had found this place was a genius. I’m not sure I would have looked at everything and immediately gone- ‘Middle Earth!’ but this person obviously had. The forest could be grown over a few years, though the trees were tall, I’d never seen them before, and they could be some sort of genetic-hybrid made just for the purposes of this park, who knew. 

But if they grew very fast, I wondered why they weren’t using them to combat the CO2 problem around the world- unless they emitted the weird fog stuff, spores?- Maybe. GMO stuff could have disastrous effects on the ecosystem. Maybe I should be glad they were only in the park. 

I made a mental note to bleach my car or something so that any endosperm or spores didn’t follow me home. 

Look at me- being responsible and stuff.

An hour or two later and I was about ready to tear my hair out. This was worse than the I-5 between Sacramento and LA. 

It was so boring!

The Mountain was getting closer, which was a good point. 

Bilbo- or ‘Bilba’ as he says, tugged on my shirt a bit. I slowed down a little, and threw him an eyebrow in the rear view mirror. He saw me, and blushed so hard I swear it went to the roots of his Hair. 

He was just short enough He could stand comfortably on the folded down seats in the back and not worry about having to watch his head- and he was shifting from foot to foot. 

Bathroom then. 

I pinched my arm. Ugh. I was dehydrated. I got like that on the road- where I tuned a lot out, like hunger and thirst. I had been planning on being in Yosemite for two days by now. 

I brightened a bit. We were likely a week or so early, so I wasn’t likely to miss extraction, and we’d have to bed down somewhere anyway- might as well be somewhere we could see enemies for miles. 

(no Bears!!!)

I swerved suddenly to head towards the highest piece of ground in the area- that is to say, it was maybe a foot or so taller than its surroundings- and parked with room for tents. 

I turned off the car and unbuckled my seatbelt. I opened the door, and with a quick lookover, grabbed the shovel and the camp privy/shower combo. I dragged it down the side of the hill, with a curious Bilbo in tow. 

The ground was soft, but not too soft which was good. I started digging. The dwarf with the hat- Bofur? Was there in an instant, and I remembered he was supposed to be a miner. He held his hand out for the shovel. I mimed a depth of about 3 feet and width of 1 foot, and he nodded, saluted, and began to dig. 

I started to put it together. By the time I was done setting up the pieces, Bofur had dug the hole, and Bilbo was getting frantic. 

I threw the whole thing together and pulled aside the curtain, and Bilbo about shot inside. 

I looked at Bofur, and he laughed, pointing at the dwarves who were just doing their business downwind , a little further out in the grass. I waffled my hand at him, smiling. 

Hobbits were supposed to be fastidious creatures after all. 

I went back to the car and lugged down the small water reservoir for the camp shower and some toilet paper. I put the shower together, and passed the TP to a squeaky hobbit before going back up and pulling down the tents. 

Nori?- the one with the 5 points in his hair- got interested in the construction of the larger tent- funnily enough the tent was Durin blue- and after a demonstration we had it set up in half a minute, I swear. These guys were pretty handy to have around. 

My more modest single man tent was a forest green with a leafy pattern that looked like something a Duck Hunter would wear as a coat. So- mostly like a piece of forest in the middle of a grassy plain. Not exactly camouflage, but it would do. It went up in a jiffy, being small. My blow-up bed went up just as fast (because the Best survivalists were also comfortable). I threw in my bedding, and grabbing one of the sleeping rolls from Bofur, I threw it in the big tent. The company were quick to stake it out- it looked like two would be sharing- and Bilbo wasn’t included. 

I sighed. 

Walking up to Bilbo, I sniffed first his bedroll (not terrible, but not ideal) and then his person. I found the hobbit wanting. Grabbing his pack, I set it outside my tent. 

He looked terrified. I grabbed a towel and went to take a shower. 

 

As I finished my ablutions, I stopped for a second- realizing I hadn’t brought clean clothes to the shower station. Hopefully, their dependence on my car wouldn’t let them be misogynist about female nudity. 

After patting down, I stepped out (wearing my flip flops) and walked back to camp starkers, drying my hair. 

I heard a gasp, and turned my head to see Dori covering the eyes of the red haired guy I almost ran over- must be ‘Ori’. 

Dori wasn’t looking at me, but he was bright red. Taking my hygiene kit off the top of the car, as well as a pair of boxers- (for modesty!) I walked back into camp. I probably should have grabbed a shirt, but I was too tired to look for it, and didn’t really believe nipples were all that awesome anyway. 

I laid out my towel and sat down, and started with my scent-free moisturizer. Then I started to brush my hair. I heard an odd sound. 

Kind of like a dying lemming?

Whatever. Nobody was looking at me. I shrugged and went back to brushing, and started humming ‘Like a wrecking ball’ as I worked. 

I started to braid it back out of my face. Didn’t want it to knot during the night. 

It was still light out a little, so I took my time and made them a little elaborate. The Dwarves were inspirational like that. 

I ended up with something kind of like a French-braid crown that ended in one long braid down the back, which ended half way. I had two little braids that kept the hair around my ears neat, which I kept closed using little plastic ties and the stoppers for my Pandora bracelet (I liked them because the gold and crystal matched my small hoop earrings). The rest was left flowing over my shoulders. 

Ha. Overall, with my blonde hair, I probably looked a little like that dragon-queen from Game of Thrones. Booyah. 

Bilbo was back from his shower, smelling like ‘Beorn’s’ honey soap and babbling something about ‘Yavanna’. He held up some flowers- probably from the surrounding meadow, and I smiled at him as if I understood what he was saying. He started to braid the flowers into my hair. 

Now everyone else was staring. 

Kili- the one without much beard anyway- was staring at my tits. Rude. 

Thorin smacked him over the head before pressing his nose into the dirt so his ‘nephew’ was prostrate like a monk. I met his eyes and nodded, dismissive. I was walking around without a shirt, I couldn’t really be offended that people were staring at the girls. 

Bifur was carving something. 

It looked suspiciously like a small fertility statue. 

He was pretty good at that. 

When Bilbo was done playing with my hair, Bombur started dinner. I volunteered in some vegetables that I still had free (not in the airtight saver bags) from my cooler and some hardtack to thicken the stew they were making. 

It was pretty good. A few of them pulled musical instruments from somewhere and played for an hour or so as it got dark. Thorin played something that sounded suspiciously like Greensleeves, which was part of the playlist I had been rocking to in the car a few hours ago. 

Bilbo had been kind of clingy since his shower and bequeathing me with flowers. He was half passed out on my thigh, and I ran my fingers through his hair, wondering how old he was. He wasn’t being pervy, so I let it go. I was pretty sure I could overpower any of the guys here- no offense to ‘little people’ but this form of dwarfism made pretty small people. 

I could take them. 

Yawning, I gently pushed Bilbo away and stretched, getting up. I walked up to my car, and noticed ‘Gloin’ smoking while walking in a distinct pattern. He must be on watch. 

I drew a shirt from my luggage finally, and managed to convey that he could perform watch from the top of the car (it was reinforced- not like he could harm it- plus, my luggage made a pretty good bench). 

I headed back to camp, making a detour to grab my tent-partner. He clinged to my shirt kind of like my little cousin. I slipped into my tent and pretty much used him as a teddy bear, and I was asleep as soon as I let my eyes close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah- there's a case of mistaken identity going on... maybe next chapter from the company's point of view?


	5. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short Bilbo POV- Some Introspection

Bilbo woke in the warm cocoon of Yavanna’s embrace. 

It is something he had thought before, though it was usually during the morning after a warm summer night’s celebration beneath the party tree. 

_Those being the mornings he’d found himself either splayed out in a field, or half inside a neighbor’s obliging shrubbery. ___

_On this morning however, it was in the embrace of her flesh made mortal. Her hand lay across his chest, the contact making him so giddy that he felt he would surely start to vibrate in place if she weren’t so _soft ___._

__There was a languidness about her. She looked as she had in every depiction Bilbo had seen— long blonde hair like spun gold (though no mere depiction could catch the myriad of different hues, or the queer darker strands that peppered throughout in contrast). Her eyes were green like all of the living things that she had made- her skin like milk. And she was soft and gentle in sleep, so much so that Bilbo could not help but lean back into her arms._ _

__And the mortal part— well— that was made obvious by the scratch running the length of the arm draped over Bilbo’s body. She’d received it while repacking her queer metal chariot to accommodate the company yesterday._ _

__It was not serious, having not broken skin and it _had ___faded, by Oin’s reckoning, but acknowledging that a goddess had taken mortal form to help them had sobered everyone. She was otherwise without scars._ _

___The Dwarves had spent an hour or two during the ride through Mirkwood trying to figure out the metal chariot. All that Bilbo had figured out before he’d dozed off was that the Dwarves had absolutely no clue as to how it worked, and that that they were just as absolute that it was their maker, Aulë, whom had created it._ _ _

___She didn’t speak Common, but some kind of language that was both guttural in places and fluid in others. Orí speculated that it might be the first language, from which all other languages originated, spoken by the gods._ _ _

___They were almost to the Lonely Mountain. A month before Durin’s day even. A path that would have taken them weeks had taken _hours_ those_ were._ _

__Bilbo grimaced. He needed to make water. Reluctantly, he squirmed from the embrace of _his_ maker. He didn’t think Yavanna was going anywhere._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am alive. Promise. I just had a run in with- eh, homelessness, joblessness, and general depression resultant of the first two? 
> 
> I have a job now. just got my first paycheck. I'm straightening everything out. more chapters should result. Don't be afraid to ask for more.


End file.
